Reminiscence
by pauciloquent
Summary: Wiress and Matilda see each other in their dreams. Matilda learns about the Hunger Games, accidently time-traveling to Panem. Then it's the Quell, and Matilda saves Wiress from dying! This is how they supported the rebellion. Doesn't follow the trilogy.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**My first crossover fanfiction! Not my first fanfiction, though. You'll probably understand the plotline even if you haven't read Matilda yet, but make sure to read the Hunger Games trilogy before reading this. Thanks, and enjoy! :) Be sure to review, I need all the feedback I can get!**

Matilda Wormwood was asleep in her bed, and she felt like she was in water. Warm, but still cool, water. All of her fears had been extinguished by this perfect, imaginary water. Her criminal father had escaped to Spain with the rest of her family. That would be her mother and her brother. None of these three people, in any way, would even think of acknowledging her presence when she lived with them. She was accused of cheating, of lying, of knowing too much. They never did know that in one point in her life, she was capable of moving things with the power of her eyes. Her brain had extra capacity; she needed more challenges.

Then her teacher, Miss Honey, got her into a 5th grade class when she was only in kindergarten. She didn't have that power anymore, but it did her a lot of good when she had it. It worked for all sorts of things: keeping her family in check by use of simple, satisfying means; keeping herself entertained; and even making their snake of a former Headmistress, Mrs. Agatha Trunchbull, leave the school. This vile human was known for swinging young girls by their pigtails because, well, she wasn't fond of pigtails! Not much to go by. But she did nasty things to the poor children of their school, so nasty that the parents didn't believe their children when they complained about it. Luckily, thanks to a levitating piece of chalk and knowledge of the Trunchbull's first name, Matilda successfully scared the monster away.

Her lovely teacher, Miss Honey, was now the Headmistress of this school. All was well.

Now, Matilda had grown into a fine young lady, polite and smarter than she had ever been. In kindergarten, she had the mind of a 5th grader; now technically in 5th grade, she was capable of 10th grade work. This was the grade she was in at the moment.

She went to the high school across the street from the home she lived in with Miss Honey, who had adopted her. Some of the people in her school didn't even notice that she was 5 years younger than them, due to a well-timed, early growth spurt that made her seem like a somewhat short 10th grader. She spoke like one, too.

However, there was one thing that Matilda was unsettled by. That was the fact that ever so often, she had nightmares. Huge, beastly ones, almost as bad as the Trunchbull. This former Headmistress always appeared in these dreams. The Trunchbull nearly always caught her, and tortured and taunted her in impossible, terrible ways.

Matilda noticed that at the end of one of these dreams, she saw a woman, about 35, with long, scraggly dark hair and the palest skin she'd ever seen on a human being. This lady had wide, alert eyes that were somewhat green and somewhat blue. She was the one who stopped the Trunchbull from getting any closer to Matilda, staring right into her, boring her deep, exquisite eyes into the Trunchbull. The lady traced the Trunchbull's first name on a wall. It appeared in bright blue letters that actually sparked with electricity. In the dream, she whispered something faintly to Matilda. This was a name, an exotic but familiar name: "_Wiress." _She whispered her own name back.


	2. Chapter 2: The Explanation

**Wiress's POV**

I am in the guest room of Beetee's house in the Victor's Village.

My house has been burned down by the Capitol. Tomorrow is the Quarter Quell. All my life, I couldn't even see sunshine—only imagine it. Could my life get any worse?

Well, I suppose I should be positive. I'm still alive. I'll be alive for a few days after that.

Then I probably won't be alive anymore.

Just a weak, crazy little tribute from District 3. I might be smart, but no one but Beetee understands that. Even Beetee's been wary about my sanity lately, but of course he hasn't said that to me. I can just see it in his eyes, his expression whenever I say some crazy metaphorical thing I've come up with. I sigh.

I'm lucky to have even survived my first Games. On top of that, I didn't even kill anyone in the process! That's probably why the Capitol burned down my house. They wanted blood in my Games, but all they got was a plan. And plenty of knowledge about my surroundings.

That year, the Games had been in an environment unlike any other. A narrow, winding metallic tunnel. All around, there was technology embedded in the walls; highly useful, if you knew how to get the tools out of the walls. I was the only one who noticed this. It was like the Arena was built for District 3. I didn't use any of the swords, or spears, or daggers; only the ones necessary for survival. None of the other tributes would have figured out that the walls held a secret, had they not spied on me; and besides, I had no allies. Or a use for them. Not even my district partner, who was killed in the Bloodbath. (This, actually, was held outdoors. We were then somehow transported into the tunnel by unknown means.)

They all thought that I was crazy, of course.

The chances of me surviving the Quell are slim. I know that Plutarch has made a plan to rescue all of the tributes from the rebellion before we die, like Johanna and Beetee and Katniss, but I'll be killed before then. I'll be so absorbed in something that I won't notice that my death is minutes away.

At least it'll stop my suffering.

But I don't want to be a broken machine. Without purpose.

I sigh again, then pull the covers over my frail body. I really don't have much strength at all, except in my hands; but what good would that do?

I stare out the window. I see a light that's probably just a streetlamp, but I try to imagine it as a star. It helps me calm down.

I close my eyes and fall unconscious, dreaming.

_I see a young girl with light brown hair, probably around 11 years of age. She's surprisingly tall, even taller than I am. Taller than most of the people in my district, in fact. She seems inquisitive. She sits there, on the floor, writing something on a piece of paper._

_Then, I see this huge, monstrous-looking woman enter the room, yelling taunts and insults and all sorts of terrible things. Her arms are outstretched, and I have a feeling that it's not for an embrace. _

_The poor girl doesn't scream. She widens her eyes and positions herself behind a marble column, waiting. She grimaces in anticipation. _

_The beastly lady starts looking for her up and down. I realize that I should do something._

_I whistle softly, and the woman notices me, and scales up my small stature. _

_I feel as if I know this woman's name, for some strange and supernatural reason. So, with my finger, I trace the word "Agatha" on the wall behind me. The letters appear on the wall, shining in a metallic, electric blue. It literally seems to be humming with electricity. Sparks fly from the name._

_The woman widens her gaze, screams inaudibly, and leaves…? Not expected. _

_The young girl looks at me and smiles._

_I smile back, and whisper my name._

_She whispers, "Matilda." That must be her name. She runs up to me and gives me an unexpected hug. I hug her back._

_She reminds me of someone._

_Of a sister. The one I never had._

_I stroke her long brown hair gently, and she smiles again. "Thank you," she says._

_If only the Capitol were this easy to conquer._

_She tells me about the awful Headmistress they used to have in their school, named Mrs. Agatha Trunchbull. I look behind myself, and see this name imbedded in the wall. How on earth did I know her name?_

_Matilda tells me that when she was little, she used to be able to move things—with her eyes. Her teacher at the time, Miss Honey, had told her that it was because she didn't have enough challenges for her brain. I could actually believe that. Matilda seems like a very smart girl._

_Matilda says that once, she had a dream, where I was at school, and I was being taunted by the teacher. The kids had started laughing and throwing paper at me, and it was all because of this…this metaphor I came up with that the teacher didn't get. That actually did happen to me, multiple times._

_She says that that happened to her too sometimes, except the kids didn't taunt her. All because of that woman, the Trunchbull._

"_We're so similar, Matilda," I say, "nobody understands us, yet we have so much to comprehend. In my world, it happens to me all the time. Except it happens to almost everybody. I live in this place called Panem, and there are 12 districts, with a Capitol in the center. I live in the 3rd district, which makes technology. You see, once, we all rebelled against the Capitol, because they were treating us unfairly. Well, the Capitol started the Hunger Games. They make children between the ages of 12 and 18, from each district, fight to the death—for their own entertainment. All because of a misunderstanding._

_Matilda widens her eyes. "W-why should they do such a thing to you? That is just against humanity! I hate it! I hate it I hate it I hate it!" _

_I nod in agreement, and sigh. She sighs back._

"_If only everyone was like you, Matilda. If only they were. Now, I have to go into the Hunger Games tomorrow. I'm going to have to die, for those monsters' entertainment. I have only a few days left to live."_

_She starts quaking and sobbing uncontrollably. "Why, Wiress? Why would they do such a thing? It's like they're wiping out an endangered species—the species of nice people! Killing all of these people! So much could be done, but they just end it! I hate it! I thought that there wasn't anyone worse than the Trunchbull—but there is. I—it's unbelievable. I want it to stop. I want you to live, Wiress. You, and all the other people in the districts. It's so…unfair."_

_I hug her again, this time more tightly._

"_Don't worry, Matilda. Even if I die, maybe you'll still see me in your dreams. Maybe you will."_

I shudder somewhat, then awaken. It's morning. No birds are singing.


	3. Chapter 3: The Truth

**Special shout-out to CloveDiedForYourSins for pointing out a mistake! *hands cookie***

**Matilda's POV**

_Intuitive Wiress fades away. Everything turns yellow, then white. I am in a sea of nothingness. _

I squint, letting my eyes adjust to the light streaming through my curtained window. It's morning. I hear a mockingbird sing, harmonious with a simultaneously chirping blue-jay. It seems reminiscent of something.

I know in the back of my mind that what Wiress has told me is true. Events in history do get repeated sometimes. I remember learning in my history class about ancient Rome, and the gladiators, which were usually slaves of war. They fought to the death for the entertainment of others.

Isn't Panem a Latin word? I roll over and thump down on the floor. My side aches from the fall. I get up slowly, and reach for my language arts workbook, which I normally would use for school.

I look up the Latin roots section. There's a Latin saying, I find. _Panem et circenses._ Bread and circuses.

Latin. Rome. I see a connection.

Of course!

But it would have been assumed that civilization learns from its mistakes.

Poor Wiress, and all the rest of her people. Tortured for entertainment. Horrific.

This must be stopped!

I can tell that Wiress is from the future. Though her clothes are old and worn and grey, I can tell that the design is from a further time. The future.

Well, every Friday at school, we're free to experiment with whatever we want in the science lab. I know what I'll do.

I'll travel to the future.

Sure, it seems impossible, but if I once was able to move things with my eyes, surely I could do it. I must repay Wiress.

She reminds me so much of Miss Honey, who adopted me when my parents escaped to Spain. She understands me.

So does Wiress. And I'm glad.

She doesn't deserve to die! She could do so many things for the good of humanity, but here she goes. Forced to fight to the death for entertainment.

I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it…

I slip into a t-shirt and jeans, then gather up all of my school-books and put them in my book-bag. My book-bag is the same color as Wiress's lively eyes, I now notice.

I brush my teeth and wash up quickly, then go down a creaky flight of wooden stairs. I see that Miss Honey is already up, sipping a mug of tea and reading a book.

"What's that you're reading, mummy?"

"Oh, it's science fiction. I picked it up at the library yesterday. It's the second in a series, actually—it's called Catching Fire. Very moving and meaningful. The sad thing is that so many of the most endearing characters don't make it. Like this sweet character, Wiress…"

"Can I see that for a moment, mum?"

"Certainly."

I squint at the pages, my eyes still a bit groggy from sleep. Sure enough, my mum was reading a chapter that included an explanation of Wiress's…death. What? This book…it tells the future. I look through it eagerly, then look backwards through the pages. "Tick, tock." Wiress says that in the story over and over again. Her throat is slit shortly afterward by a boy named Gloss, of the first District. I can prevent this! I will!

"Uh…mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Thank you! This book seems very…useful. Enjoy the rest of it! I'll try to find the first book in the school media center."

I kiss her goodbye. She has a slightly perplexed look in her lovely golden eyes, which are ironically the color of honey.

I take all of my books and things with me, and wait at the bus stop outside our house.

My eyes are bright. I have work to do.

It's now halfway through my school day. So far, it has been an average day—at school, at least. Math, reading, history, writing. All the typical sorts of things. But not for long.

We're lucky to have such a well-supplied biology lab. It's filled with all sorts of chemicals and test tubes and equipment. You might as well discover the cure for cancer in here. I think the surplus supplies are due to a huge donation by some anonymous generous person. Something like that.

I gather up a couple of pencils and stick one in my ear. I walk down the hall to the science lab with my friend Jayla Murlin, who's in all of my classes. She is a great deal older than me, like everyone on campus, but she doesn't let that affect our friendship.

Would she believe what I've found out lately, though?

I'll tell her if absolutely necessary. But only she and Miss Honey can know. And my other friend, Lavender Brown, who's in 5th grade. I've known her for five years now. They must keep this a secret, if they find out. I trust them to do that.

Jayla and I start putting a bunch of gears in a movable position and then construct a simple battery, attaching this to the gears. We just mess around with it for a little while, making it go faster or slower at will.

"Um…Jayla?"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever…seen something that you almost couldn't believe?"

"Well…I do know that when you were little, you were capable of moving things with your eyes. Your mum told me that once, when I was volunteering as a student teacher in her kindergarten class. It's kind of hard to not believe her, provided that she's well-respected as both the Headmistress of the primary school AND the kindergarten teacher, and very knowledgeable about things. Like you."

I look down at the tile of the floor, embarrassed.

"You, too, Jayla," I mumble. "The thing is, a few days ago, I had a…a dream. In the dream, there was this lady named Wiress—"

"There's a character in a book with the same name! In the book Catching Fire! She was actually one of my favorite characters. I cried when Gloss killed her."

"Exactly—my mum was reading that book this morning! The only thing is, this is the Wiress in the story, not just someone with the same name. She said she's from Panem—"

Jayla gasps.

"And they're forced to fight to the death for the entertainment of this place called the Capitol. She's going into this fight in only a matter of days, and I'm hoping that somehow…I could warn her. To prevent her death from happening."

"So it's like the books—they pretty much predict the future. I've read the whole Hunger Games trilogy, as a matter of fact. If Wiress lived through the rebellion…honestly, she deserves more respect as a character. She's too nice a person to be killed by Gloss in the snap of a finger. If you actually manage to stop that from happening, I will be eternally gratified, Matilda."

Jayla is looking straight at me with her wide, believing, dark eyes. She actually accepts this as true! No wonder she…

"I'll go look inside the closet for a second, Jay," I say as I walk towards the big closet of…things. There are many different…objects inside it. Some purposeful, some…not so much.

I step inside, surrounded by seemingly miles and miles of cluttered boxes. I sit on the floor for a minute, observing all of the things I could use. Microscope…ELECTRON microscope…plastic toy microscope…Petri dish…a box with containers of probably every chemical known to mankind (or not)…

I brush a strand of my hair behind my ear with my hand. Or try to.

My hand isn't there.

My hand…is not there.

I start to panic somewhat.

I look at myself in a large broken mirror in the closet. Half of me is gone.

Not just invisible; just gone. Period.

I feel as if I'm evaporating. The rest of me is gone now, too…

"Jayla…..!" I scream, only to hear my own voice fade.

I see the light spectrum, and then I see nothing.

Something in the distance comes within my view.

I am surrounded by factories. Lots of them. Ash falls on my skin like crinkled grey autumn leaves.

**Jayla's POV**

"Matilda? Where are you?" I inquire. I hear no reply. I come closer to the closet door, then open it. Almost getting trampled by the mounds of junk in here, I search for her, to no avail.

It's not like Matilda to disappear like this, but she was saying something about time-travel…

Of course it could be possible! As possible as the fact that there could be life on other planets. Inevitable, in fact.

Supposedly, electrons don't move fast enough to travel through light and into the future, or even past; but what if there was an accelerator?

This is Great Britain. It's fairly close to the North Pole. It could be very possible, in fact…

Aurora borealis. The Northern Lights. Of course!

It's caused by magnetic particles from solar flares. Perhaps Matilda's electrons were somehow attracted to these particles, and she managed to move through time…

I note a newly issued science magazine, which only came out this morning, in fact. Sure enough, an aurora borealis occurred today, "under unusual circumstances. The particles could be seen all the way to the United Kingdom, and even interfered with the connection of several electronic devices." That's true, the internet's been down all day. Odd.

People will obviously want to know about what happened to Matilda, but I'm afraid that if I told them my theory, they'd lock me up in the nut-house. So I'll just tell Miss Honey the truth about the situation, and inform others that Matilda has been feeling sick and went home to her mother. Not exactly morally correct, but this is a life that Matilda's saving. The life of Wiress. Not many people will believe that she traveled to the future to warn a fictional character of incoming death.

If she wasn't my very best friend, I doubt I would have believed her, either; but I know her well. She is telling a truth.


	4. Chapter 4: Stable

**Matilda's POV**

I feel dizzy for a few seconds, then, all of a sudden, feel as though I have been shot with a bolt of lightning. Alert and energized.

I'm clearly not where I was before. I'm not where I have been before, either. But this place feels somewhat familiar.

I'm surrounded by factories. Metal upon metal upon more metal. Smoke and fog hangs in the air, heavy on my head. I don't like the smoke. I try to blow it out of my way, but it's too heavy for my breath to handle.

Every direction seems the same, almost. There are factories, of course, but I also see small houses—no, shacks. Made of tin and roofed with tile.

I think this is approximately how Wiress described District 3, the place where she lives. Technology is made in factories, of course, so that must be self-explanatory.

Still, the living conditions here are horrific. No trees and no sun. Just metal. The people who live here surely must not deserve to live in such a place. They need to see nature. I want to show it to them.

I'm still in the same clothes I was in before, faded jeans and a blue t-shirt. Ash falls on me like grey snow, and soon, I can't even see my own hand. It blends in with the fog.

I see a few people walking in between the factories, but I'm assuming that most of them must be either at work or at home. These few people have dull, frayed clothes and pale, sad features, accented by shocks of black or dark brown hair. Most of them have grey or bluish eyes. They all look like they could be related to Wiress.

They don't seem to notice me, although I'm taller than most of them. I wonder if the people here ever get growth spurts.

I see a small ring of houses to my left that seem slightly more privileged than the rest of the population's. There is a bit of grass growing here, but not that much.

I walk closer to there. There is a sign that says,

**Victor's Village**

And in smaller print, below,

**Home of the Lucky Victors of Previous Hunger Games**

This must be where Wiress lives, I think. Only children participated in the Hunger Games, but Wiress isn't a child. But still she has to go to another. This must be something "special" in the eyes of the Capitol, I think. Maybe they're taking the past Victors of previous Games.

I remember Wiress's frightened, alert eyes and her unkempt hair. These seem like side effects, no, aftereffects of these Games.

I think she lives here.

Only two houses here seem to be occupied. I knock on one of them.

I've been lucky, something I'm usually not. Wiress opens the door the tiniest bit, wincing. She sees me and relaxes.

"Oh, it's…"

"Me," I finish.

"You…knew what I was going to say? Not a lot of people know how to do that. Actually, only one person could do that, and that was before you came along. The only other Victor who's still alive, actually. That would be Beetee."

She invites me inside and gives me a steaming mug of cocoa. It reminds me of something I used to do when I was little, before Miss Honey adopted me.

_My father would go off to sell old cars for many times what they were worth, illegally. My mother would go to play bingo. My brother would, of course, go to school. I wasn't allowed to go to school by my parents; they said I was too short. (A rather insufficient reason, if you ask me.) They expected me to sit on the couch and watch the telly. Now, that didn't sound very fun, in my opinion. _

_Even though my parents probably wouldn't have approved, every week or so, I would walk to the library and check out a few books. Now, interestingly, it was not because of the dangers of a 5-year-old crossing the streets that they didn't approve. It was because they were against book-reading. "Looks are more important than books," my mother told Miss Honey once. But she was so, so very wrong. Both of them were._

_I would read them at home, immersed in a whole new universe. Time traveling on a chair. I would see deserts and rainforests and travel to the moon and see other small children who were so very much like me—take Oliver Twist, for example—and I was happy. _

_Near my side, I would always place a hot mug of cocoa to sip from time to time, to comfort me when my favorite characters were in times of peril. Like Wiress._

_It was so lovely; all by myself, I could do anything I wanted to. I didn't care when my father ripped up one of the books in a fit of anger; I painstakingly glued it back together, and did a small act of justice in the process. It was so satisfying when his hair was permanently glued to his favorite hat after my touch of super-glue._

_I was free and independent. I didn't have to rely on my parents, who accused me of lying and cheating, to provide me with anything._

_I loved it._

_If only the Capitol were this easy to conquer._

I stare at the cocoa for a few minutes more, watching as the foam of the chocolate dissolves into the fragrant brew. _If only the Capitol were this easy to conquer, _I think again.

"Matilda, honey…" Wiress starts. It sounds ironic, because "Honey" is actually now my last name.

"Yes, Wiress?"

"The…Hunger Games…the one that I'm going into tomorrow? It…it's not like the usual ones, with kids between the ages of 12 and 18. This one…they're taking the Victors of the past Games…and pitting them against each other. That would include me."

_That's what I thought. _"But why? It really…"

"Isn't fair. I know. But the Capitol, they're all so mad at us…just because the citizens of the districts rebelled 76 years ago…"

"But you weren't the ones who rebelled!"

"Exactly. That's why now, we will. Once more. And I know I won't live through this Games to support the rebellion, but I'll try to last. If I…"

"Wiress! Why…why are you thinking like that? Like your death is inevitable?"

"Because…it IS inevitable. I don't stand a chance in the arena. I might have a good knowledge of things, but that won't save me. I'm not a fighter. All I'm good at is threading wires and solving equations."

"And listening to me," I finish quietly. "All my life, I was overlooked, too, Wiress. My parents accused me of the most horrible things. And even now, sometimes my teachers don't believe that I did my work myself. There are people who see me for who I really am, but there are those who don't, too. You're one of the ones who do, and that's a pretty small category."

She sighs deeply and looks at me carefully. "If only I could have put what you just said into proper words—but I—I can't—finish it. Whenever I speak, the words get jumbled up, and precious few people understand what I try to say. So people think I've lost my marbles, which I'm beginning to believe myself. I'm glad you understand me so well, Matilda, because otherwise…"

Her face lights up suddenly. "Matilda, how did you get here? You live in a different time. Did you…"

"Time-travel? Yes, yes I did."

"So it's true! It IS possible! To…"

"Travel through time. I don't even know how it happened, I just…went into this big closet in my school…and I basically disappeared. Bit by bit."


End file.
